All I Want
by Bekah1218
Summary: Molly is working alone on Christmas Eve when a visitor stops by - who can it be? Sherlolly


All I Want

It was a cold Christmas Eve, and Molly Hooper was, as usual, working the 7P to 7A shift so that her co-workers with families could be home. She was happy to do it, since she was all alone now except for Toby. It was quiet, and she passed the time in catching up on some paperwork whilst listening to her holiday playlist. She was sat at her desk, humming softly, when she heard the outer doors to the morgue swing open.

_Ah- some poor soul had passed, and on Christmas Eve! s_he thought as she walked to the receiving area, she hoped that the person had a long and happy life and had passed quietly. Molly had picked up a clip-board pre-loaded with the necessary forms to admit a new body on her way out of the office, already mentally getting ready for -

She stopped short when she saw it was just Sherlock, who had breezed in, wrapped in his Belstaff and scarf and carrying a rather large basket which was covered with a cloth. He looked up from his task of setting the basket down carefully, and grinned at her.

"Sh- Sherlock, what are you doing here tonight? Is there a case coming in for me?

Were you and John out with Lestrade, or-?" Molly stammered, feeling her face flush scarlet as she once again could not get one sentence out in his presence without making a complete fool of herself.

"Nothing like that. It's been hatefully peaceful this year so far. Just dreadful!" replied Sherlock, with a smirk raising the left corner of his mouth as he took in her Christmas ensemble of hunter green trousers with a red-white-and green holiday jumper with some atrocity on it, probably an, erm- elf? "Has it been busy here tonight?"

"N-no, dead quiet- oops, sorry! Oh, no!" Molly giggled. _Great! Sherlock had come over to HER lab when she was just about to fall asleep from boredom, and she couldn't make decent small talk without embarrassing herself._

"Molly, please don't be embarrassed, it's only me," Sherlock began, speaking more softly than was his usual, as if trying to calm a startled bird. "I was just sitting at Baker Street alone, and thinking I should bring you some Christmas food and erm- well, a present." He looked so unsure of himself that Molly wondered what had flipped upside-down in her world for Sherlock Holmes, of all people, to seem unsure.

_She _was the frumpy, mousy one who never looked as smart as the other women at parties, who always felt she was overlooked by all the men, especially the one she cared most for, the one who was too gorgeous to ever want to be with her. Why on earth would he now decide to bring her a present- she didn't think he _did _presents, except maybe for his parents.

She looked back at Sherlock, who was waiting for her brain to finish its wild careening around in her skull with another soft smile.

"Let's start with some refreshments first, shall we?" he asked, that luscious chocolaty baritone making her toes curl inside her sensible shoes. He began laying out a variety of containers on the cloth, which now served as a tablecloth. A Christmas one, no mistake! There were sandwiches, fruit, cheeses, Christmas biscuits and candy, accompanied by some lovely fruit juice - he knew she wouldn't dare imbibe alcohol at work, just in case she needed to be totally sharp if a case came in for her table. There was also an assortment of tea sachets- all the kinds she loved, and a carafe of hot coffee with cream and sugar nearby.

"So what did I do that made you want to share a Christmas meal with me? Did I help with some case that was really important in ways I didn't know about, for you or Mycroft..." she started, but he cut her off mid-sentence.

"Molly, please- let me say what I came to say, all right? I know we talked a bit after that phone call, but I need you to know that I really did mean what I said. I might not have been ready to say it, but once I did, it felt so right- even with everything else that went on that day. We've even started 'dating', whatever that means to other people, but for us, I think dinner and trips to museums of anatomy and the like are great dates. So, now that we've had some time to think a bout it all- Molly, would you marry me?" he finally paused, taking in a deep breath and looking at her as if his next breath depended on her answer.

"Sherlock- what? Marry you? You know I love you- have always loved you since about five minutes after I met you. And not because you are the handsomest, fittest, man I have ever seen, and definitely not because you have the most delicious lips that a man could have, they should be illegal...of course, yes! A thousand times yes! " finishing this string of thoughts, Molly crashed her lips against Sherlock's, feeling his arms come around her at last. The kiss got deeper rather quickly, she began to forget where they were- but then she came suddenly back to herself as Sherlock broke the kiss, rather reluctantly.

He got down on one knee- of those bespoke trousers that probably cost a month's salary for her- and looked up at her through those lush, inky lashes, and said in a whisper that could have melted steel, "Mary Elizabeth Hooper, this was my Grandmother Vernét's ring- would you wear it until I can place the matching band alongside it?" At her wordless nod, he slipped on the sapphire-and-pearl yellow gold ring., which fit perfectly, of course.

At her continued silence, Sherlock looked a bit concerned and asked, "Molly? Are you all right? Love? I realised you couldn't wear the ring at work, so I've got a chain for you so that you can put it on the chain when you're busy with chemistry or post-mortems. See- here it is," and he produced the chain from his pocket and showed it to her, then placed it around her neck and fastened it.

Molly was still stunned. She had certainly not thought that this would happen now- at Christmas- but it was the best gift she had ever received. She realised she was saying all this only in her head, and that Sherlock must think she had gone round the bend by now, so she mentally shook herself and answered him.

"Yes, love, I'm fine, just a bit gobsmacked, that's all! I never thought you'd be ready this soon,' she stammered.

"Soon? It's been three months! I've nearly gone mad waiting this long, but John insisted I couldn't just ask you right away," Sherlock replied, looking thoroughly befuddled.

"You're quite right- it has seemed like forever, now that we've decided, doesn't it? But we've never done anything else like 'normal people', so why start now? You could have asked me right away, just so you know. I would still have said Yes, love," she answered him sweetly, seeing his face relax and light up again.

"When were you thinking of, for the wedding, love?" he asked her, looking anxious lest she say a long time from now.

"How soon can your brother push the paperwork through? Whenever that is, would be just fine with me. We only want our family and close friends there, anyway, correct? I can get a dress that I can wear again, and you have so many nice suits, I think we are all right in that area. Sherlock?" she trailed off, seeing him on his phone.

"Mycroft says he can have things ready on Monday- that's five days. Is that all right?"

"That gives me plenty of time. Who are you calling now?" Molly wondered.

"Hmm? Oh, just making our reservations for Italy- for our honeymoon- that's still all right, isn't it? You have said a few times you've always wanted to go there. Just a minute, love," and he spoke to someone at the other end in flawless Italian (of course he did) and in a few minutes returned to the conversation. "Right, then. All sorted. Molly? Did you want something more to eat or drink?"

"No, you mad, brilliant, impossible man, all I want for Christmas- is you."


End file.
